Planet with no name.
This morning, Vulkan woke up with a full stomach and a clear mind. The remains of the blue tiger had made an excellent dinner, and the fire still smoldered softly in the hollow tree. I stretched, making my new joints crack like stones grinding together. My Primarch body responded perfectly, every muscle fully rested, every sense on high alert.
I decided to climb to the top of the tree to get my bearings. The tree in question was the size of a thirty-story building. Thirty stories. For a normal human, that would be an expedition. For a being like me, it was a morning stroll.
My fingers sank into the bark like it was butter. I climbed with surprising agility for such a massive body, leaping from branch to branch, defying gravity with an almost insulting ease. In less than two minutes, I reached the top of the canopy.
I parted a few branches blocking my view. And there, I saw.
A forest stretching endlessly. An ocean of fluorescent green reaching all the way to the horizon. Silver rivers snaking between the giant trees. Flying creatures soaring through the purple sky. It was grand. It was wild. It was...
Then I saw it. A mountain breathing fire. A majestic volcano, crowned with black smoke and orange lava flows cascading down its slopes like veins of fire.
Something awakened inside me. A primal desire. A visceral urge. The forge. Fire. Metal heated white-hot. The hammer striking the anvil. The memories of Vulkan, the Primarch smith, flared up in my mind like a stoked flame.
Vulkan: "My next destination."
That volcano would be my forge. I could feel it in the deepest part of my being. But before crossing this jungle to reach the volcano, there was a more immediate problem.
My clothes.
Or what was left of them. The shreds of my jeans and t-shirt hung pathetically on my new massive body. The transformation had literally made me burst out of my clothes. I looked like the Hulk after a rage fit, obsidian-black edition.
Vulkan: "I need to make myself something to wear."
I climbed back down and got to work. The blue tiger's hide was there, raw, thick, still damp from the jungle's humidity. It needed to be transformed into supple, rot-proof leather.
The steps flowed naturally through my mind. First, fleshing: scraping off the remaining bits of flesh and fat stuck to the hide with my claw-knife. Then rehydration: cleaning the skin in a nearby river to rid it of all impurities. Next, tanning: I used bark rich in tannins, crushed and applied to the damp hide. Finally, conditioning: I coated the still-stiff leather with a thin layer of animal fat to soften it.
The work lasted until noon. Under the twin suns baking the alien jungle, I scraped, rubbed, softened, and lightly smoked the hide over the embers to make it more durable. My Primarch hands worked with surgical precision, transforming the raw skin into supple, strong leather of a magnificent deep blue.
When I finished, I had a sort of loincloth and a leather harness. Not exactly elegant, but functional. Very functional. Cosmic caveman style, but at least I wasn't naked anymore.
Vulkan: "Alright. Let's see what I got today as a surprise box."
Ding!
[Surprise box activated. Would you like to open it?]
Vulkan: "Yes."
I held my breath. My heart pounded in my chest. Transformer or box of crayons? Legendary sword or toothbrush? The suspense was unbearable.
Ding!
[Surprise gift box opened!]
[You obtained: The Red Mark of Kratos' body (God of War). This is a tattoo made in honor of his brother, Deimos. No abilities. Purely decorative.]
Silence. Long. Very long.
Then a burning sensation traveled across my left shoulder. I watched, helpless, as a bright red mark traced itself on my obsidian skin. It started from my shoulder, curved around my left shoulder blade, climbed up my muscular left pectoral, ran down my iron-hard abs, wrapped behind my back, crept up my skull, and stopped just under my left eye.
I leaned over the puddle of water formed by the morning dew. The reflection showed me the image of a black colossus with red eyes, dressed in blue leather, with a massive red mark snaking across the entire left side of his body.
Vulkan: "I always wanted a tattoo... But this, dammit, what the hell is this?! Goddammit!"
Ding!
[Thank you for your patronage. I hope you will appreciate it.]
Vulkan: "Appreciate it? I look like Kratos, sci-fi edition!"
I sighed. Deeply. Then I looked at my reflection again. The red mark contrasted violently with my black skin and burning eyes. The blue leather loincloth added a barbaric touch. The bulging muscles completed the picture.
A small smile crept onto my lips. A smile that wasn't entirely displeased.
Vulkan: "At least... I look badass."
The volcano rumbled on the horizon. The forge was waiting for me. And now, I had the look to go there.
The adventure continued. And something told me the next box draw might finally be something useful.
Or a box of tissues.
We'll see.